Brotherly Affection
by Artemisdesari
Summary: Tag to 5x13 and thus all the spoilers that entails. Castiel has a conversation with his brother. Dean/Castiel implied.


_So, apparently this episode did more of a number on me than I thought it would. This is the second tag that I've written for it and while it is completely unrelated to Illusions of Freewill, it still holds elements of Dean/Cas. This is me, I should have long ago learnt that I cannot do anything other than write them. Maybe I should name a plot bunny after them... let's not go there._

**_Disclaimer:_**_ I still don't own them, obviously otherwise canon would be very different and there is no way that Dean would have just not mentioned Castiel to Michael and demanded healing times there too.  
_

Brotherly Affection.

Castiel should be dead, he knows this, he should have perished from the sheer strain of dragging the two Winchesters back in time with him and he should never have agreed to Dean's demands. It cannot be changed now, cannot be helped, all he can do is rest and hope that he can get Sam and Dean home before he passes from existence.

There is a pang of loneliness at the thought that he is here alone, that Dean had to leave him in this place with little more than a squeeze on the arm and a promise that he would be back. He cannot blame Dean, knows that were their positions reversed and it was his Father in such danger he would not hesitate to go after the threat, but all the same he finds himself wishing that the hunter had heeded his warning. So he is alone here, in a time unfamiliar and room that is both familiar and strange all at once, he has been alone for two days and is only now beginning to get his strength back. He wonders how he is supposed to find the brothers.

"Castiel," the voice is that of a younger John Winchester, but the power that fills it, the body and the room is that of someone else, that of Michael.

"Brother," it is all the angel can do to keep his voice from trembling as his soul does when he addresses the greatest of them.

"Look at what has become of you, at what your adoration of the Winchester boy has done to you," if the renegade angel did not know better, he would think that he heard sorrow and pity in Michael's tone. "Were they worth it, Castiel, are they worth this slow fall into nothingness?" The archangel's voice becomes mocking.

"Yes," he would say more, but Castiel can feel the bubble of the vessel's blood in his throat and he rolls to one side as he coughs, leaving a stain of thick crimson on the sheets. The disgust is plain on the stolen face of the archangel, the stolen face of John Winchester.

"They will destroy you, little brother," Micheal tells him, and this is a Michael of the future and not the present, this is a Michael who knows what Castiel has done and is as incapable of understanding it as any other member of the Host.

"Then I will die," he replies, because there is little else that he can say to such a pronouncement of doom, and then, because he has obviously spent _far_ too much time with Dean, "but if it is to be at your hand I would rather you complete the task quickly."

Michael huffs at that, an approximation of a laugh and if Castiel were not convinced that the vessel was still making an attempt at turning itself inside out he would feel wonder at that.

"I am not here to kill you, Castiel, though a quick end is more than you deserve for your actions against us," and still he is cold, unfeeling, nothing of the warmth in John Winchester's voice that Castiel witnessed the last time he came to the past. Nothing of the man who would mould Dean into the hunter and the Righteous Man. "Your work is not yet done and though I would take pleasure in being the one to mete out your punishment, it will wait."

"Then why are you here?" He forces himself upright so that he can look fully upon his oldest brother, the greatest of them, and finds that once he is no longer in the prone position Dean left him in, he feels less fear of his brother.

"Return to your own time, Castiel," Michael orders and even though Castiel has forced himself from Heaven and the ranks of the Host, there is no way that he could disobey this one. "You were never needed here."

"The Winchesters..." Michael cuts him off.

"Are already returned." A pause. "I hope Dean Winchester really was worth this fall, Castiel, it saddens me to see a brother brought so low at the hands of a mortal man."

"He _is_ worth the sacrifice, Michael," and Castiel thinks of the way that Dean lay him in this bed in a gentle manner far removed from the gruff exterior he always displays around Sam, the hand that wiped blood from the angel's mouth and smoothed back hair that is always untidy. The soft whisper of return and the almost desperate demand that Castiel return to him, the foolish shortening of the angel's name and the way that it rolls from the man's tongue. Yes, Dean Winchester is worth this a thousand times over.

"I truly hope you succeed in finding our Father, Castiel," Michael lays a hand on his shoulder and the renegade feels the gentle warmth of grace and healing. "I hope he can bring an end to this madness. I cannot restore you to grace, I _will_ not, but you _shall_ make it back to Dean Winchester's side.

"Thank you," Castiel bows his head with the words.

"Do not, the next time that I see you I shall be the one to destroy you." With that, the archangel is gone and Castiel draws a breath, does no need it but enjoys the moment of calm that washes over him with it. Then he draws into himself and returns to his time, returns to Dean.

_Artemis_


End file.
